


Our Midnight

by KendylGirl



Series: At Midnight [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Destiny, Love, M/M, One True Pairing, POV Elio Perlman, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Semi-Compliant with Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendylGirl/pseuds/KendylGirl
Summary: Oliver’s note wasn’t merely for their first night; it was a list.





	Our Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Aciman has made vague statements about the end of his book; I decided to solidify it by rethinking where they started.
> 
> Willowbrooke has an eye for detail that few can match; if you're looking to wrangle some wayward prose, beg her indulgence!

_Grow up.I’ll see you at midnight_.

I still have the note, folded in half and stuck in a book of poems.There could be no better metaphor for my entire life.

I didn’t know that it was a promise, not just for that night so long ago, but for a lifetime.He let me go so that I could be me, not his version of me, but he never said goodbye.It was a promise for Later.I’ll see you later.

I’ll see you at midnight.

I’ll see you when I’ve gotten my degrees, when I’ve traveled the world, when I’ve laughed and screwed and fought and sang, when I’ve tried and failed and tried again.

I’ll see you when your book is done, when your four books are done.When your kids have grown.When the holes of your marriage rip it for good.I’ll see you when the drudgery of the day is done and home is your only destination.

I’ll see you when you know it is time to come home for good.

I’ve missed you.I’ve always needed you, and I wouldn’t have lasted this long without knowing you so early in my life.I would have had nothing to make me realize that the art and beauty that I envisioned in my mind could possibly be real.I would never have known that there was a purpose to all of it, a reason to keep going, to gather what I could so that I could have it all with you.

The purr of the car’s engine gets louder.The brakes squeak.You put your suitcase down in the grass and smile at me.Your skin is tan, your teeth still perfect and white.Your face is calmer now, the old shyness just a flutter of your lashes as I reach out for your cheek.

“You’re finally here.”

“Have you been waiting?”

I just smile at him, hold his gaze like I always wanted to before.

“So have I, Elio.”

I have so much to tell you.There are years of stories that I kept untold, reams of thoughts I’d never shared, songs that need your ear to be heard.But time is ours now.There’s no rush.

“Walk with me.”

And you take my hand, lace our fingers together.It’s what I’ve always seen when I had looked at my own hand.Yours was always there.

We wander through the woods, along the water.We stop to watch the sun flame.“Have you ever noticed that sunsets aren’t as beautiful without clouds before them?”

I had.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because beauty only happens when light refracts.The complicated journey makes the destination worthwhile.”

His hand cups my neck, his thumb stroking under my jaw.“Has it been worth it?”

His eyes are so blue, so I allow myself to stare.“‘According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.’”

He smiles, gives my neck a light squeeze.“That’s Plato.”

I move closer, tuck my fingers into his soft hair.“That’s us.”

“But I haven’t spent my life searching.”

“No?”

“No.I always knew.”

“Did you?”I’m teasing him, and he smiles again.

“Always.”He leans forward, presses his nose into my hair, and breathes deep.“How about you?”

I smile, so broad my cheeks ache.“What about me?”

“Are you going to tell me that _you_ didn’t know?”He shakes his head, grin never disappearing from the corners of his mouth.“There’s nothing that you don’t know.”

I shrug.“I’ve learned a lot.Life has taught me a lot.”I slip my leg between his.“But some things are impossible to forget.”I stare at him, remember how heady his full attention is.“I never forgot a single thing about you.”

“No?”It is his turn to tease.

“How could I?You were with me through it all.I carried you everywhere I went.”

“Did that make you happy?”

“You make me happy.”

“Are you happy now?”His bottom lip pouts just a little.I want to devour it.

“There is nothing else but this.There never has been.”I dare to watch him digest this, the flame in his cheeks, the flare of his nostrils, the thickness of his swallow that does a slow drag of his throat.

“I’ve been married,” he says after a very long pause, after looking over my shoulder and watching the skyline.“I’ve had children, watched them grow, watched them leave for their own lives.”

I wait, try not to lick his clavicle which pokes through the open collar of his shirt.

“And I loved that family in my own way, in that life.”His eyes find mine again.“But there is nothing like you.You were always what I was going to come home to when the rest was finally done.”His fingers caress my cheek.“Always you.”

I lean into his hand, shiver from the bottom up.It might be the chill air, the breeze that swishes the canopy of trees around us.I take a step closer to him.His arm slips around me.I had remembered the radiating heat of his body, remembered it on cold nights and lonely days, remembered how his heat had filled me so completely.It has sheltered me constantly. 

I lay my head on his shoulder.It fits perfectly.He kisses my hair, and we stand together, watching the stars emerge. 

Time blurs.All that I know is the firm pressure of his fingertips which grip my waist under the hem of my shirt, the smell of his cologne in my nose, his supple skin.

“Should we head back?” 

“Yes, please.”His eyes have grown dark.I know mine are the same. 

We turn together and walk in step back to where we’d started.I twist my arm to look at my watch.

Midnight.The end of one day, the start of another.

The rest of them belong to us.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece came out of nowhere, and I hope you have found it enjoyable. I always beg for you to share your thoughts, and this occasion is no different--if you don't talk to me, no one will, and I can't stand the silence!


End file.
